"I see that I am interesting you. This poor friendless girl was in his service in Lamb's Terrace at the time, her name, Molly. So what did this Nisbet do but send his stepdaughter from the house, and take a ticket for her to some part of the Continent, precise place unknown, but doubtless where she was pretty well out of the world. He was to follow her, and they were to live in foreign parts. Meanwhile the poor girl Molly was left in the London house, and on the morning of his intended departure was found dead, not in her own bed, but in the young lady's, with the young lady's clothes on and about her. The cause of death was said to be asphyxiation by an escape of gas in the young lady's bedroom. The Nisbets kept no society in London, and had no friends or acquaintances, so there was no one to dispute his statement that it was his stepdaughter who was dead. Now, he knew, that an inquest would have to be held, and that a certificate of the cause of death would have to be produced, so what does he do but go to a miserable wretch of a doctor or apothecary living or starving--the latter, I suspect--in the neighborhood of Lamb's Terrace, and by plausible words and bribe induce him to give this necessary death certificate. Name of doctor, Cooper. Fire away, doctor, if you've anything to say." "It has been done again and again," said Dr. Cooper, sucking his parched lips. "But I can't speak till I've had a drink." "Here it is," said Rivers, mixing a glass, sparing with the whisky and liberal with the water, and handing it to the wretched man. "Don't swallow it all at once; moisten your lips with it now and then." "It has been done again and again," repeated Dr. Cooper. "A doctor is called in who has not attended the patient; he sees that the cause of death is unmistakable, and he gives the certificate. It is not a crime." "I am not so sure of that," said Rivers, in a dry tone. "Anyway it is too late now to prove the true cause of poor Molly's, death, for the body has been cremated." "It was not a case of illness," continued Dr. Cooper; "no doctor had been in the house to see the girl before that morning, and I only did what any other doctor would have done." "You did," corrected Rivers, "what no respectable doctor would dream of doing." "I was in debt," pursued Dr. Cooper, "I was in trouble on all sides, I had a large family to support, and no food to give them. He came to me, and I was glad to earn a pound or two. I had never seen him before that morning, I had never even heard of him. What is this story you are telling me of another girl being put into his daughter's bed? It is false; I do not believe it." "It is true," I said, "and it can be proved, for the young lady lives." "May I drop dead off this chair if I knew it!" cried Dr. Cooper, with trembling outstretched hands. "How was I to know it when I had never seen the lady, when I had never seen the girl, when I had never seen him before that morning?"